Clair de Lune
by Infernal Racket
Summary: Bellatrix and Narcissa's relationship must come to an end. Bellatrix catches Narcissa in the music room of the manor one night and stays to listen. Narcissa's favourite piece, Clair de Lune, soon evokes some powerful memories. T for incest, although non-explicit.


**I own nothing, as always! This is dedicated to a certain daft cow, she knows who she is. This is based on a role-play, a way of sort of tying up lose ends, a farewell of sorts. Musical terms and technicalities were supplied by some tramp I like to call my best friend. Her performance of Clair de Lune inspired this piece as well as the role-play. Enjoy!**

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Bellatrix balled her hands into fists and rubbed her eyes along with emitting a deep inarticulate growl.  
Could she hear music?  
Moonlight seeped through a gap in the curtains suspended above the bedroom window. A soft summer breeze rippled through the heavy red material, causing the light to twinkle. The natural beauty captured Bellatrix's attention only briefly until she remembered it was the middle of the night. Swinging her legs over the edge of the four-poster bed, she stood, beginning her search for the individual who dared interrupt her sleep. Bellatrix swept her messy curls to the side and poked at her ear as she left the bedroom, almost questioning her own hearing. She could hear a quiet, gentle melody drifting through the lavishly-decorated hallway. It was lined with portraits of Malfoy ancestors, all of which sat silent in their frames, allowing the dazzling arrangement to reach their ears. Padding along the wooden-floor, Bellatrix came to the source of the sound. The door before her was ajar only slightly but still allowed sweet notes to cascade from the room like glistening water from a fountain. Curiosity getting the better of her, Bellatrix peered inside.

The room was large and circular with stone walls, intricately decorated and carefully selected to enhance a listeners experience. In the centre, stood a large, full-toned piano supported by three legs, a concert grand with a black, hardwood finish. Belltatrix blinked. Her annoyance at being woken was slowly drifting away. On a small leather-covered bench in front of it, perfectly poised, sat Narcissa.

Bellatrix, not known for her quiet nature, slipped into the room as soundlessly as she could possibly manage, shuddering when her bare feet touched the hard, crystalline marble floor. Her gaze, however, remained locked on her little sister. The sound was calming and resonating as the slim, pale fingers danced over the fine ivory and charcoal keys, emitting notes, in Bellatrix's opinion, as perfect as the woman creating them. Bellatrix's eyes, as dark as the night, followed Narcissa's dainty hands in their graceful movements. The luminous glow of the moon only adding to their pale tone, overriding any little colour her skin did possess.

Narcissa had always been fair. Bellatrix recalled the first time she had held one of those spectral hands in hers. No older than four years of age, small and round-faced, a pouting Bellatrix had demanded her mother allow her to hold the newborn that was Narcissa. Oh how she had screamed. Manipulating her parents was her area of expertise as a child and so eventually her mother had succumbed to the tantrum-prone toddler she once was, and allowed her ten minutes with her baby sister. Bellatrix had taken Narcissa into her arms with more care than she had ever shown another living soul. Taking the baby's hand, fingernails the size of a half grain of rice, she had sat quite happily. Bellatrix, unfortunately, was not readily relinquished from the cosy position after her allocated ten minutes. That day, in fact, when her cruel mother took Narcissa from her little arms, Bellatrix had clenched her fists in a fit of anger and had accidentally shown the first sign of the power her magical blood would thrust upon her. The chandelier above them in the parlour had exploded, with a thunderous crash, sending pieces of crystal and jagged-edged glass raining down.

The music stopped. Bellatrix shook her head and blinked slowly as she drifted back to reality. Here eyes focused on Narcissa who was now looking over her shoulder and mirroring her stare.  
"Bellatrix." Narcissa said without question, as though she was expecting her. The eldest sister responded with a manic wave of her hand, gesturing for her to continue as she crept towards the piano and settled herself on the leather-clad stool, adjacent to Narcissa. The blonde turned back to the keys, her hands hovering, and continued to play: a rhapsodic interlude before the piece returned to the hushed, moonlit magic that had originally dragged Bellatrix from her slumber. Bellatrix's eyes lingered over the title at the the head of the score propped up on the little wooded shelf of the instrument: '_Clair de Lune_.' Having noticed her sister's interest, Narcissa answered the unasked question.  
"It means moonlight." Her voice was loud enough to be heard over the enchanting harmonies, but soft, so as not to interrupt the magic. It was a pure evocation of night. The music rose and rose to a crescendo, and Bellatrix, so engrossed she was in the music, absent-mindedly began to sway, escaping reality once more.

A vivid memory of the manor's master bedroom by moonlight pushed its way to the forefront of her hazy mind. A tussle for dominance, light colliding with dark. Jet-black curls tangling with long flaxen locks. Two sets of lips melting like wax when they touched. Sweet whispers, soft touches. Laboured breaths and cries of ecstasy. An appalling wrong that felt so right. Silence. They had woken the next morning curled around each other, that first time, limbs tangled beneath the twisted sheets, hand in hand, amazed by how two different sets of fingers could fit so perfectly together.

Bellatrix could feel her heart begin to hammer against her ribcage; a passion and feeling of unconditional love cursing through her veins. After a few more moments of remembrance, Bellatrix let her eyes fall upon Narcissa's hands again, bare, bar the simple gold band encircling her ring finger. She had chosen to marry Lucius to keep the blood running through the families veins crystal clear and pure. Bellatrix felt tears brimming in the corners of her eyes and a sudden ache beginning to blaze within her. Now it was over, their secret would remain locked in her bitter heart. There it would rot, poisoning an already broken soul. Lucius could attempt to rationalise the mutual devotion between the two all he liked, but their bond would remain, lovers or not. Forever.


End file.
